


Wishful Thinking

by fizzyblogic (phizzle)



Category: All-American Rejects
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-17
Updated: 2007-03-17
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/fizzyblogic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For James <3</p>
    </blockquote>





	Wishful Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> For James &lt;3

Nick's first kiss was, technically, a girl called Lou-Ann, who was a whole grade older than him and tried to squeeze into the same crack between the school buildings while playing hide and seek. A quick brush of the lips and she was gone again, giggling. Somehow he'd thought it would be more momentous.

He didn't really count any until Tyson, though. Near-misses and awkward incidents with girls don't count, he decided after he first kissed Tyson. They were teenagers, half way to drunk and a good way to exhausted, heads close together, laughing about something, Nick could never remember what. He leaned in and pressed his whole mouth to Tyson's, and Tyson didn't even hesitate or make a sound, he just kissed back like he'd been waiting for it, and it was kind of sloppy and kind of awesome and Nick was thoroughly aware of his entire body for about a day afterward.

*

It wasn't until Nick had been at college for an entire month that he realised he was in love with Tyson.

It didn't come in a flash of light, he didn't wake up one morning _knowing_; the knowledge slipped in comfortably while he was washing his hands. It didn't feel like being struck by lightning, or even like it had always been there waiting or whatever chicks say about moments like this. (He kind of wondered, later, what all the fuss was about this supposed "I've always been in love with him, I just didn't know it" thing; he'd _fallen_ in love with Tyson, which was way more fun.) It just felt like, oh hey, in love with Tyson.

Somehow, he'd thought it would be more momentous.

He thought about calling him, but that didn't really seem like the best thing to do. He walked to class, put his hand on the door, and stopped.

_Dear Tyson_, he thought. _Are you in love with me? Please answer yes, no, or an appropriate song lyric._

Someone bumped into him from behind. "You gonna _move_, buddy?"

Nick blinked himself back to where his body was. He paused, then, "Yes," decisively, and walked out of there. All the way to his car and out of town and onto the freeway before he remembered he'd left all his stuff. He stopped for coffee, shrugged, and decided he'd go back for it later. Or just go back, depending on how this whole thing went.

He got to Stillwater as the sun was going down, the light staining the horizon orange and purple. He pulled up in front of Tyson's house and took a deep breath. _Do this, Nickolas, just do it. If he's not home, try Mike's, try our old hangouts, try - if he's not anywhere, ask his dad where he's likely to be, not that Ty would tell him -_

Before he could even get out of the car, the front door opened and Tyson spilled out of it, almost running. He stopped a foot away -- "Nick?" he asked, as if he was trying to convince himself.

"Yep," Nick confirmed. He opened the passenger door. "Want to go for a ride?"

Tyson climbed in so fast the wheels rocked. "Where have you - it's not Christmas yet, is it?"

Nick laughed, a huff of breath. "No, Ty." He pulled away, driving in silence for a minute. Tyson fiddled with the radio, and Nick tried not to notice his hands. First time they'd met, Nick had met Tyson's eyes and smiled, then noticed his hands. They hadn't even talked until Ty found him at school a couple days later.

"So are you," Tyson started, and _Road, Wheeler, watch the damn road_, "are you back? I mean, college, and - you leaving again?"

Nick hesitated. "Don't know yet. Kind of depends on something."

"What's that?" Tyson asked, and Nick figured this place was secluded as any and pulled over. He killed the engine, took a deep breath, and reached one hand to cup Tyson's cheek.

"Ty," he breathed, without meaning to. It was just, it was _Ty_.

"Oh." Tyson looked at him and leaned just a fraction against his hand. "Nick," he concluded, and that was all Nick needed. They moved at the same time, met in the middle, and then there was lips and tongues, and Tyson's fingertips traced patterns on Nick's neck, and Nick exhaled shakily into his mouth, and somehow, though really it was only a kiss with just a darkening sky and the sounds of the fields and some half-tuned rock station for company, somehow it was pretty damn momentous.


End file.
